What do you think about the state of poetry and the reading of poetry in our country?
I never, ever worry about poetry or its survival because it’s the very nature of a poem to be that language that does survive. Poems are even better than tweets – they don’t require any electronic equipment. They can lodge right in your brain. They are by nature short. You don’t even have to remember all of them — you can remember just a phrase. That can be something you can turn to in any emergency, good or bad. You’ll pluck out a little group of words, just maybe a phrase, and that’s exactly what poetry is for. It’s for the things that really last. Because it lasts.
This song is from Patty Griffin’s first album, Living with Ghosts. It has been on my mind a lot, especially as I contemplate my life. If I were an island, the song would not make any sense. The principle would be ridiculous.
Maybe just a mini-review of this song.
It’s Patty and her guitar and her feelings. Rawness and purity and vulnerability. Universality and dissipation in bygones. It hurts, it heals: I like it.
May’s rating scale:
MAY!
May.
meh…
meh?
MESS.
–
We are swimming with the snakes at the bottom of the well So silent and peaceful in the darkness where we fell But we are not snakes and what’s more we never will be And if we stay swimming here forever we will never be free
I heard them ringing the bells in heaven and hell They got a secret they’re getting ready to tell It’s falling from the skies, it’s calling from the graves Open your eyes, boy, I think we are saved Open your eyes, boy, I think we are saved
Let’s take a walk on the bridge, right over this mess Don’t need to tell me a thing, baby, we’ve already confessed And I raised my voice to the air and we were blessed It’s hard to give, it’s hard to get But everybody needs a little forgiveness
We are calling for help tonight on a thin phone line As usual we’re having ourselves one hell of a time And the planes keep flying right over our heads no matter how loud we shout “Hey, hey, hey!” And we keep waving and waving our arms in the air but we’re all tired out
I heard somebody say today’s the day A big old hurricane, she’s blowing our way Knocking over the buildings, killing all the lights Open your eyes, boy, we made it through the night Open your eyes, boy, we made it through the night
Let’s take a walk on the bridge, right over this mess Don’t need to tell me a thing, baby, we’ve already confessed And I raised my voice to the air and we were blessed It’s hard to give, it’s hard to get It’s hard to live, baby, but still I think it’s the best bet, hey, yeah Hard to give, and I’m never going to forget But everybody needs a little forgiveness Everybody needs a little forgiveness
A Little Thinking 